


Future Today

by a_fandom_affliction



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Almost smut, Confused Dean, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Happy Castiel, Happy Dean, Happy Sam, Implied Sexual Content, Inappropriate amounts of fluff, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), No Smut, Sam Ships It, Time Travel, she isnt a big part of it dont worry, stuffed animal named bob, they illegally adopted a kid ok i just wanted thgem to be dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:25:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8397976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_fandom_affliction/pseuds/a_fandom_affliction
Summary: During a case, Dean makes a mistake. He triggers a spell, falls down some steps, and gets blasted ten years into the future.He wakes up in a bed with a very naked Cas, who's cuddling him in a very not-friend way. He has to make a choice between the future he never thought he'd get, and the future he thinks he deserves.





	

**Author's Note:**

> there's some implied sexy times, but nothing really graphic. there isn't even fighting. just head bumps.
> 
> have fun!

“And I thought Bobby’s was bad,” Dean muttered, squinting through the gloom of the hallway that stretched out in front of him.

 

“Hush, Dean. I’m trying to concentrate.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day. Stupid Sam and Ruby, taking off and leaving him for two weeks with this dumbass. He leaned against the grimy wall and sighed heavily, mentally sending a curse to his brother and that… brotherfucker? Demon? Brotherfucking demon? Did they have to go off _now_?

 

“Dean, I told you to be quiet,” Dean’s living nightmare whispered.

 

Dean clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to smack the angel in the face. “I ain’t doing anything.”

 

“You keep moving, and sighing,” Cas replied, his face still turned away from Dean as he ran his hands over the doorknob again and again and again and Dean was losing his mind. “It’s irritating.”

 

“What’s irritating is how long you’ve spent looking at that damn doorknob,” Dean snapped back, wholly giving up on trying to be quiet.

 

“Excuse me for wanting to be sure it doesn’t try to bite off our hands. We are in a witch’s house, after all.”

 

"Aren’t you supposed to be good at this?”

 

Cas drew himself up from his crouch, and turned to face Dean. “I am.”

 

“Then shouldn't you be quicker at it?”

 

Cas frowned at him. “I’m good at this, Dean, because I’m thorough. Just because you’re accustomed to barging in with two left feet doesn’t mean that’s what you should do.” Cas turned back to the door. “Now, please be quiet.”

 

“Fine! Just hurry the hell up. The quicker we get through the door, the quicker we can wrap this case up, and the quicker I can go somewhere that you’re not.”

 

Cas scoffed quietly, but didn’t reply. He just bent back down and began concentrating on the doorknob once more. Dean tried to keep his breathing calm as he forced himself to relax back against the wall. He knew that Cas was good at this - he’d proved it time and time again. Cas was meticulous in his approach, and had put a stop to more than a handful of lethal curses before they’d been triggered. He’d even saved Dean from blowing off his own hand, during one memorable job. Dean was just… used to having Sam with him when he and Cas had to share the same small space. Without Sam there to act as a buffer between them, Dean couldn’t seem to stop himself from falling back on old behavior (AKA Letting Cas Get To Him, and Retaliating With Anger). He was almost sure that Cas was taking his sweet, sweet time on purpose, just to piss Dean off, but Dean (regretfully) had nothing to prove it - aside from his suspicions and the occasional look that Cas sent his way (but only when he thought Dean wasn’t looking).

 

They’d been rubbing each other up the wrong way all week, ever since Sam had bounced off with Ruby to whatever crazy place psychos go to bang. Dean was stuck with just Cas, and it irked him. With the exception of a handful of cases and brief meetings, Dean and Cas hadn’t ever had much cause to be around each other, and certainly never alone for any extended period of time. That suited Dean quite well; although he’d spoken in defense of Cas to Sam and Bobby, the dude was still an absolute dick, and the less Dean saw of him, the better, as far as he was concerned. Sam was better at hiding how much the angel annoyed and hurt him, but he really didn’t like the dude any more than Dean.

 

Apparently, Dean couldn’t say the same thing for himself. He couldn’t seem to not throw harsh words and comments - just the sight of Cas made his skin prickle. They’d been sniping at each other all week, as they worked to clear an old house of dark artifacts and residual witchcraft. It would’ve probably been fine, except that Cas was taking his damn sweet time with the last door.

 

With nothing to occupy his attention other than Cas, Dean had gained quite a bit of knowledge about how he worked. He knew that when Cas was concentrating particularly hard, the tip of his tongue could be see poking through his teeth. When he came across a difficult curse, Cas’s nose would wrinkle slightly. During moments when he was casually sweeping for trigger points, Cas would hum a surprisingly sweet melody.

 

But just then, Cas was doing exactly none of those things; he was staring, blankly, at the fucking doorknob. Dean had absolutely no idea why Cas would want to drag out their time standing in a dank, moldy hallway of a dank moldy house. They couldn’t leave until every last inch of the place had been swept and cleared, and it wasn’t like the hallway was a better place to be than the basement.

 

Dean’s temper was very quickly fraying. “Seriously, Cas, what’s the hold up?”

 

He tensed, waiting for the backlash of Cas’s words for being interrupted again, and was surprised when it didn’t come. Instead, Cas sat back on his heels and rubbed at his nose - that was wrinkled slightly, Dean suddenly noted - with the heel of his hand.

 

“I’ve removed most of the major curses, but there still seems to be some residual wards.” Cas huffed out a quiet breath, and scrubbed his whole hand across his face. “I can’t tell if it’s leftover from the biting curse, or if it’s something else entirely.”

 

Dean thought for a moment. “Does it physically stop us from opening the door?” he asked finally.

 

Cas shook his head. “No, but I don’t know what will happen if we do. I can’t even tell if _anything_ will happen.”

 

“I don’t get it.”

 

“No, neither do I,” Cas mumbled to himself. He shook his head, and then stood up again, standing very still next to Dean. “There’s something there, but I can’t tell what. It feels…”

 

“It feels, what?” Dean asked, when it became clear that Cas wasn’t about to finish his sentence.

 

“It feels like I’m not allowed to know yet,” Cas said, fixing his eyes on Dean.

 

“I don’t get it,” Dean repeated. He was starting to get a bad feeling; the creaks and groans of the house around them suddenly sounded louder, more purposeful, and the door in front of them seemed to shimmer with ugly possibilities. Dean was rapidly becoming tired of the entire case. “I guess we’ll just have to open it.”

 

“Are you joking, Dean?” Cas asked, furrowing his brows.

 

Dean shrugged. “We can’t leave until the house has been secured, and if you can’t work out what it is by looking at it, that only really leaves one option, don’t it?”

 

Cas stared at him for a few seconds, then breathed, dejectedly, “Fine.”

 

Dean drew his pistol, and reached out with his left hand. He took a deep breath and grabbed the doorknob, wincing as he waited for something to happen. Nothing did, and both he and Cas let out relieved breaths. Biting down on the inside of his cheek, Dean turned the handle and let the door swing open. A set of wooden stairs led down into more murky gloom, thicker and darker than anywhere else in the house. The wood was bent and cracked in places, and Dean vaguely wondered if it would be stable enough to take his weight. Ah, well. What the hell.

 

“Wait, Dean,” Cas said, gripping Dean’s arm as he looked to the floor. Dean followed his gaze, and saw two words etched into the wood of the doorway.

 

_Brevem Conspectum._

 

“What th’hell does that mean?”

 

Cas frowned, squinting down the stairs. “If we step over it, we’re likely to find out.”

 

Dean glanced down into the yawning black once again, and clenched his jaw. The quicker they got down there, the quicker the suspense would be over.

 

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, placing his his foot firmly on the first step. Nothing happened. He carefully placed all of his weight onto the step, and brought his other foot down onto the next one. The wood creaked ominously beneath him, but he remained miraculously both upright and in one piece.

 

“Perhaps… it was simply residual magic,” Dean heard Cas mutter to himself, before he felt the gap close between them as the angel made his way down.

 

Dean was about six steps down when it started to happen. The darkness seemed to creep up towards them, enveloping them both despite the glow from the open door. The air was cold around them, and Dean started to feel dizzy. His footsteps faltered beneath him as he took another step down.

 

“Dean, are you alright?” Dean faintly heard Cas ask.

 

Dean’s knees shook, he suddenly felt very light-headed, and he tried to grab onto the banister to hold himself up. He stumbled back into Cas, and the wood beneath his hands gave way at the same time. Dean tried to regain his balance, but he was dizzy, and sick, and Cas was tripping over him. Their legs tangled together as the stairs seemed to disappear, and Dean grabbed on tight to Cas as they fell down, down, down, down…

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The first thing Dean became aware of was the sunlight streaming directly into his face. He groaned and shifted, burying his nose into the warmth next to him to shield himself. His head was pounding and his entire body felt as though he’d been kicked down a flight of stairs. He stretched his legs and grunted at the ache in his lower back. Dean snuggled further into the warm pillow while he waited - no doubt Sam would be along in a few minutes to administer some greatly needed medical care.

 

And then the pillow beneath him spoke.

 

“Don’t even think about it, Dean. You promised me coffee.”

 

Dean froze. The voice was painfully familiar, and yet… he had never heard it sound so fond. He lifted his head, and blinked. Even with the sun streaming into his eyes, he could tell that it was definitely Cas laying next to him, his thick brown hair falling into his eyes as he looked back at Dean with a small smile. Maybe Dean was dreaming. Or he was still stuck at the bottom of the basement, and Cas was dreaming. Or both.

 

“Uh,” Dean said. Then, “The hell’d you do with my watch?”

 

Cas raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t get that drunk, last night. It’s on the bedside table, as usual.”

 

Dean sat up quickly, and had to bite back a string of  “what the fuck, dude”s. Cas was right, there his watch was, resting neatly on a bedside table. Which was at the side of a bed, which Dean was very much in. With Cas. Naked. Oh, so very naked.

 

Dean could feel the long length of Cas’s leg where it was nestled between his own, could feel cool air against his sweaty skin where it had been pressed against Cas’s chest. Dean reached over to snag his watch - he just needed a little normalcy - and winced when a twinge made itself known from his thigh to his lower back.

 

And then he froze again, because oh, good God, that wasn’t an ache from falling down stairs, that was… that was from something else entirely.

 

“What the fuck,” Dean said, and shoved his watch on. He nearly crawled out of his skin when an arm snaked around his waist, pulling him back onto the pillows.

 

“Was I too rough, last night?” Cas said into his ear, the breath on Dean’s neck making him shiver. “In my defense, you were begging for it.”

 

Cas nipped Dean’s earlobe, and Dean clamped his jaw to hold in a really unmanly shriek. But… the noise turned into a surprised moan as Dena felt Cas’s hand slide down to his stomach - far too close to where Dean was definitely still very naked.

 

“Cas-”

 

“Daddy! Pop!”

 

Dean didn’t know whether to scream in shock, or sigh in relief as Cas pulled his hand away and sat up. Dean searched the room wildly for the source of the new - and extremely high - voice, and the next second, he had a tiny knee connecting with his balls, and an armful of something very small with grabby hands and wild blonde hair.

 

“What the f-”

 

Dean was cut off - again - by Cas slamming his hand against his open mouth, before reaching out to drag the squirming bundle onto his own lap. “Katie, don’t climb on your pop so early in the morning! You know he’s grumpy when he first wakes up.”

 

The little girl - at least, that’s what Dean thought she was - squealed in delight as Cas tipped her backwards and began tickling her stomach.

 

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Katie, you promised you wouldn’t disturb them,” came another familiar voice from the doorway, this one tinged with frustration. Dean looked over, and stared at Jody freakin’ Mills as she beckoned to the little girl. “I’m so sorry, we’re on our way to Donna’s, but Katie insisted she couldn’t go without Bob, so we stopped off here, first.”

 

Cas smiled and lowered the little girl, who ran straight over to Jody and demanded to be picked up. “That’s okay, we were just waking up, anyway.”  


“Did you two have fun, last night?” Jody asked, a smirk pulling at her lips as she arranged Katie on her hip. Dean jumped as he felt Cas’s arm snake around his waist again.

 

“We absolutely did,” Cas said, and Dean had to hold back a string of protests as he was pulled insistently back against the solid warmth of Cas’s chest.

 

“Well, you can keep having fun, just as soon as we find Bob and get out of here,” Jody said, stepping back into the hallway.”

 

“I’m fairly sure he’s in the kitchen,” Cas replied, running his nose along the column of Dean’s neck. “Katie wanted him to help us make pies, yesterday afternoon. There might be cherries in his fur.”

 

“Found him!” another voice yelled from the depths of the house - and, seriously, whose house even was this?

 

"It’s no problem, we can wash him at Donna’s,” Jody said, giving them both a wave. “You two enjoy the rest of your day, and we’ll see you this evening.” With that, she was gone, the little girl in her arms waving goodbye.

 

Dean stared at the doorway, lost in confused thought, when Cas suddenly pushed him onto his back, leaning over him. His big blue eyes were suddenly far, far too close, and they were both still entirely too naked.

 

“How about an anniversary shower?” Cas mumbled, leaning down and running his tongue across Dean’s collarbone. Dean gasped and arched upwards in surprise.

 

“Anniversary?” Dean grunted.

 

Cas rolled his eyes, and smiled slightly. “Yes, yes, I know that it’s not our anniversary anymore, grumpy.” He trailed kisses along the line of Dean’s throat. “But it’s been so long since we had a morning to ourselves. I want to enjoy every second.”

 

And then he kissed Dean.

 

It wasn’t a quick, light kiss, either.  He sucked Dean’s lower lip between his own, and bit down gently. Dean grunted, and then Cas’s tongue was in his mouth, sweeping across his teeth and tangling with his own. Dean kissed back before he even realized what he was doing, moaning at the feel of Cas’s lips moving against his own, at the slide of his hands down Dean’s sides, the little satisfactory humming noise he made, deep in his throat. Holy hell, could Cas kiss. Dean felt completely breathless by the time Cas moved away. He smiled down at Dean, and brushed his nose across Dean’s.

 

“I’ll warm up the shower,” Cas said, slithering out of bed. He walked across the room, completely unashamed of his nakedness, and disappeared behind another door. Dean sat up as he heard a shower starting up on the other side, and glanced around the unfamiliar room.

 

“What the fuck,” he said out loud, and, thankfully, this time he wasn’t interrupted. Of course, this also meant that he didn’t get any answers, either, and he was still stuck in a room he didn’t know with a Cas who was expecting Dean to join him in the shower, and either Dean had hit his head harder than he thought, or the entire world had gone mad while he’d been unconscious. He had to get out of there. He had to… Sam. Yeah, Sam would know what the fuck was going on. Dean just had to find some clothes…

 

Dean got out of bed, shuddering as yet another twinge reminded him of just what his body thought he’d been up to the night before, and then stopped, disoriented. He had no idea where his clothes were. Maybe there’d be some that would fit in the dresser? He pulled one open tentatively, resolutely not looking at the photo frames scattered across the top. He decided not to think about why his favorite Zeppelin shirt was folded up next to several pairs of jeans that looked like they’d fit him perfectly, and just pulled out a pair and scrabbled around until he’d found some boxers and socks.

 

He was just dropping to his knees to look for some shoes - ah, there they were, shoved under the bed - when Cas’s voice floated out from the bathroom. “If you’ve gone back to sleep in there, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

 

Dean froze, on boot on, and one off. He didn’t have a damn clue what to say. He pulled on his other boot and stood up, walking carefully over to the door - as close as he dared, anyway. “Uh, I just gotta, I remembered that I, uh, need to talk to Sam about something,” he called.

 

"What?”

 

“Uh, I… I gotta go.” Dean found his jacket, laying on the floor, and snatched it up, sprinting out of the door.

 

He grabbed his keys off a hook in the main doorway, and slammed the front door of the house with a sigh. Anything to get out of shouting distance of a naked Cas.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dean followed the GPS on his phone to Sam’s location, and found himself standing outside an apartment door. At the last moment, he remembered that his goddamn little brother and the idiotic demon were still on their fuck-trip, and wouldn’t be there to help him. Dean was just about to drive to the nearest bridge and throw himself off when the door opened. Dean slipped backwards, startled. There was Sam, looking way happier than Dean’d seen him in a while. He - if it was even possible - looked stronger, and his hair was longer. The kid even had stubble, and a more defined face.

 

"Dean? What’re you doing here?”

 

Dean groaned, and threw himself at his brother. He didn’t care that Sam was still in his pajamas, or that Sam didn’t even look like Sam, or that he was probably making a bitch out of himself - he was just so glad to see his baby bro.

 

"Uh, sure, okay,” Sam said, patting Dean on the back awkwardly. “Not that I’m not pleased to see you, man, but is there a reason we’re hugging in the hall?”

 

“You’re here,” Dean grumbled, then frowned, and straightened. “Wait, why are you here? You’re supposed to be with Ruby.”

 

"I am? That’s news to me.”

 

Dean shook his head. “Never mind, you’re here now, that’s all that matters.” He grabbed a fistful of Sam’s shirt, and shook him. “Something really weird is going on, man. I fell, and then I- I woke up, and Cas was there, and he kissed me, and everyone was naked. Well,” Dean paused. “Jody wasn’t naked, but Cas was, and so was I, and there was touching, and did I mention the nakedness?”

 

Sam’s eyes had widened under Dean’s babbling, his eyebrows slowly lifting towards his hairline. “Dude, come in. I think it’s finally happened.”

 

As Sam dragged through the door and into the kitchen, Dean wondered if his brother had been making bets on when he would finally lose his marbles. He opened his mouth to accuse Sam, but stopped short at the sight of a giant, hairy thing sitting under a scrubbed table.

 

"What is _that_ ,” Dean snorted, pointing at the thing.

 

Sam raised an eyebrow. “That’s my dog. Hamilton.” He glared Dean into a chair, and then sighed. “I realise that you’re probably confused right now, but there’s no need to be rude.” Sam moved off to grab a cup of coffee, and Dean stared warily at the mammoth of a dog sitting next to his feet. It had drool sliding out of its mouth. Dean shuddered.

 

“What the hell is going on,” he burst out, causing Sam to flinch and spill the coffee.

 

Sam ran a critical eye over him as he cleaned up the coffee. “Well, I knew this was coming,” he said with a shrug. “Unfortunate that it happened this weekend, but… I guess it can’t be helped.” Sam dumped the dirty rag in the sink, and sat down next to Dean.

 

Dean felt like throwing up. “Seriously, man, will you just tell me what’s going on?” He looked helplessly at the giant dog, who was now struggling to slobber all over Sam’s hands. “So far this morning, I’ve had a little girl knee me in the dick, Jody friggin’ Mills yelling about something called Bob, and a naked fucking Cas try to kiss my face off.” Dean slumped in his chair, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Is this a dream? Do I need to click my heels together three times?”

 

“What’s the last thing you remember - before you woke up this morning, I mean.”

 

ean immediately started to calm under Sam’s logical and level tone. Whatever was going on, Sam would be able to figure it out and put everything right. He took a deep breath, and lifted his head. “Me and Cas were clearing out a cursed house. We started to go down into the basement, and then we tripped, or something, and we feel down the steps. Then, I woke up with a naked Cas pressed against me.” He stressed the part about the nakedness, wanting to make sure that Sam understood the severity of the situation. To his annoyance, however, Sam only suppressed a smile.

 

“Okay. Dean, do you trust me?”

 

“What? Of course I do.”

 

Sam smiled, and patted Dean’s shoulder with slobbery fingers. “Good. Then I want you to trust me when I tell you that I can’t tell you what’s going on, but I promise you that everything is going to turn out okay. Can you trust me on that?”

 

Dean gaped at him. “Dude. Can’t you tell me anything?”

 

Sam pursed his lips, absentmindedly scratching Hamilton’s muzzle. “I can tell you that there was a spell on the doorway you and Cas walked through, called Brevem Conspectum. It translates into ‘brief glimpse.’”

 

“A glimpse of what?”

 

Sam tilted his head to the side, snorting as Hamilton took the opportunity to nibble his fingers. “That, Dean, is something you gotta figure out for yourself. If I tell you any more, it could change things. You know I’d clue you in all the way if I could.”  


Dean groaned, and rubbed at his face. “So, wha’do I do until I work it out?”

 

Sam stood up, pulling his fingers out of Hamilton’s grasp. “You go back home, and you try not to act too suspicious. The good news is, Jody’s looking after Katie for the day, and there’s a party at Donna’s tonight, so you two won’t be alone for too long.” Dean almost grinned at the thought of his brother trying to make sure that he wasn’t alone with a naked Cas for unhealthy amounts of time, until Sam continued with, “So, you shouldn’t mess anything up too badly.”

 

“You’re saying that I gotta go back to Cas?” Did Sam not hear the part about the nakedness?

 

"“Yes, although it might be a good idea for you to call him ‘angel,’ just for today.”

 

“What? Why?”

         

Sam crossed his arms, looking down at Dean. “Dean, I want you to think about one very important thing: this morning, when you woke up with Cas, when he kissed, and when he was naked…”

 

"Yeah,” said Dean slowly.

 

"Did you like it?”

 

Dean spluttered, and Sam used the moment to drag him up out of his chair, and push him towards the door. “Just think about it, alright? And try not to act too suspicious!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dean looked around the main room of his and Cas’s house, his pulse jumping as he took in what clues it had to offer him. There was a large wooden box in front of the window, the lid pulled half up, spilling over with toys. There was a big yellow truck sat next to it, a barbie doll sitting behind the wheel next to a My Little Pony, what looked like half a witch’s costume stretched over the stomach of a beat-up teddy bear, and a rocking horse that had one of its white patches colored in an astonishing variety of Crayola shades.  A dark leather Lay-Z Boy sat in one corner, facing out into the room with an easy reach to the bookcase beside it. A television was standing on a table across from the sofa, which was scattered with mismatched cushions, blankets, and a surprising amount of white and orange cat hair. A tiny black shoe was wedged beneath one of the cushions.

And everywhere, _everywhere_ , there were pictures.

 

Everywhere Dean looked, photographic versions of himself and many others waved back at him. He, Sam, and Cas sitting on a bench with steaming coffees and burritos; Jody and a redhead chick squirting Dean with water pistols; The same redhead chick dressed up in a weird, Renaissance costume; the little girl with Hamilton in the snow, rolling around and laughing; Sam passed out in the passenger seat of the Impala, a spoon in his mouth - Dean remembered that one, he’d taken it himself.

 

Interspersed between all of these were pictures of Dean and Cas. Cas pulling a face while Dean kissed him messily on the cheek; Cas with his his arms wrapped around Dean’s waist, his chin on Dean’s shoulder; Dean and Cas at an animal shelter, Cas holding up a tiny, tiny kitten with joy; Dean asleep with a little girl on his chest.

 

Dean sank down onto the sofa, wincing when he landed on the discarded shoe. Okay, he just had to think about this for a minute. What had Sammy said? This was the effects of a spell, and something about a brief glimpse? But what was he briefly glimpsing - a bad acid trip? Dean didn’t think he needed a lesson in responsible drug use. Maybe a look at how his mind would crack if he kept spending so much time on the job? It was true, Dean did work a lot, but it came with the life, but he really didn’t think that this would be what his frayed mind  would conjure up. An alternate universe of some kind? Dean didn’t know if such things existed, but if they did, then maybe Sam’s reluctance to tell him made a little more sense. Maybe if he learned too much, he wouldn’t be able to get back to his own, sane, normal world.

 

Dean thought he might be having a heart attack.

 

Okay, no, he just had to take some deep breaths, and think. Wherever he was, an alternate universe, a mental breakdown, a massive hit to the head and a subsequent coma, whatever, things were clearly different. He seemed to be gay for Cas, as a start, and was living in what looked like a pretty awesome house, and he had a child…

 

Dean felt light headed.

 

So, he was in a relationship, living in a house, with a kid - Katie? That’s what Jody and Sam had both called the little girl - and he seemed to be doing all of this with Casti-fucking-el, Angel of the goddamn Lord.

 

“I see you’ve finally decided to grace me with your presence,” Cas said behind him, and Dean jumped so hard that he slipped off the sofa. Cas frowned at him. “I’m honored.”

 

Dean stared at him. Cas had put on some clothes, but they weren’t Cas clothes. Jeans and a white, untucked button-up wasn’t Cas. Dean stared at the place where two of the shirt buttons were undone, showing off a hint of tanned skin, and the way Cas’s throat moved as he swallowed.

"Do you not have anything to say?”

 

Cas stared down at Dean, his eyes cold. (And a little bit hurt, Dean was surprised to notice.) What had Sam said? Try not to act too suspicious. Right. Dean cleared his throat and stood up.

 

“Uh, sorry. It was work stuff, somethin’ important I forgot to tell Sam about. I’m back, though. Obviously.”

 

Cas huffed quietly and turned away. “Figures,” he said, walking off in the direction of what Dean assumed to be the kitchen.

 

Dean followed, wracking his brain to come up with a way to fix this. Whoever this Dean was, he had clearly not been expected to go driving off to his brother’s this morning, and Dean needed to make it up to Cas before he noticed he wasn’t acting the right way. “I’m real sorry,” he forced out, rounding the corner to find Cas facing away from him, fiddling with the dirty dishes. “But it was urgent, and it was about Sam’s… life?”

 

Cas snorted, and turned around to face Dean, leaning back against the counter. “No, I’m sorry. You told me where you were going, and you were gone less than half an hour. It’s not a big deal, really.”

 

“Yeah, but, I upset you,” Dean said hesitantly, not believing an apology was really all it took. The Cas he knew wouldn’t back down so easily.

 

Cas nodded. “I was simply looking forward to spending the whole day with you, that’s all.” The coffee pot let out a click and a sputter, and Cas turned to begin making two cups. “We’ve both been busy, recently, and with Katie waiting for us when we get home every night, it just feels like it’s been forever since we’ve had entire day to ourselves.”

 

Dean nodded and accepted the coffee that Cas offered him, and took a sip to postpone replying. “Oh, damn, this is perfect,” he said, sighing.

 

Cas smiled. “When is it not?” He raked his gaze over Dean as he drank some of his own coffee. “We don’t have to be over at Donna’s for a few more hours. Any idea how you want to spend the time?”

 

Dean went hot at the thoughts Cas was trying to inspire, his brain flashing images from earlier; sweaty, close, naked images. He cast his mind around for an activity they could do together without Dean raising too many suspicions. “Television,” he burst out quickly, watching as Cas lifted a brow. “We could, uh, watch something?”

 

Cas nodded slowly. “An afternoon on the sofa. How could I say no?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Half an hour later, and Dean was beginning to regret his offer. He sat on one end of the sofa, Cas’s head in his lap, and his hand wrapped around Dean’s thigh. The movie Cas had picked was set in the old west, a genre Dean usually loved, but he couldn’t concentrate on a single thing happening on the screen. Cas had drawn the curtains and left the lights off, the room was dark and intimate, and he could feel Cas’s every exhale, hot and damp against his thigh. His hair was soft and smooth between Dean’s fingers, and it was only when he realized he’d been rubbing at Cas’s scalp that he yanked his hand away.

 

“Why’d you stop?” Cas glanced up at him and grabbed Dean’s wrist, forcing his hand back to his head. Dean tentatively moved his fingers again, and Cas arched his head into it like a cat, a contented humming sound rumbling deep in his throat. It startled a laugh out of Dean; it looked so like his Cas.

 

“Don’t laugh at me,” Cas said, turning away from the television to look up at Dean. His face was now a bit too closed to a part of Dean that he didn’t want interested. Dean bit the inside of his cheek, trying to will his dick to stay down. Cas smirked, and edged his face closer to the seam of Dean’s jeans. “What a perfect way to spend our anniversary.”

 

"Anniversary of what, exactly?” Dean tried to keep his tone light - teasing, instead of clueless. Despite what Sam had said about him figuring stuff out on his own, Dean needed to know some details if he had any chance of not fucking up.

 

“Forgotten already?” Cas asked, nosing at Dean’s thigh. Dean sucked in a sharp breath, and slowly stroked through Cas’s hair.

 

“I guess you’ll just have to remind me.”

 

"I guess I shall.” The film played itself in the background, forgotten completely as Cas slid into a sitting position before shifting over to straddle Dean’s thighs. Dean’s hands rested on Cas’s waist on instinct, pulling him closer. “Let’s see,” Cas whispered, leaning over to press feathery kisses onto the skin of Dean’s neck. “Ten years and one week ago, you were an ass and stepped over a spell trigger in an abandoned house, thus falling to the basement.”

 

Dean wanted to concentrate on the ‘ten years ago’ part of that explanation, but he was having trouble; Cas was now nipping lightly at a spot near his jaw that sent white hot sparks to his brain.

 

"Then,” Cas continued, moving to the other side of Dean’s neck, “Ten years ago yesterday, you woke up from your cursed coma and kissed me.”

         

“I guess that was a surprise,” Dean managed to say. His fingers were clenching and unclenching on Cas’s waist, and he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. Nor could he stop himself from arching into the feel of Cas’s lips against his skin.

 

Cas smiled, and nipped Dean’s earlobe. “It was, but considering I was lost to you from the moment we met, I wasn’t too angry about it.”

 

He sucked, and Dean gasped out, “Castiel.”

 

Cas stopped moving, lifting his head and looking down at Dean, a strange look on his face. “Did you just call me Castiel?”

 

Oh, damn. What’d Sam said. Call him ‘angel?’ “Sorry,” Dean mumbled quickly. “I was, uh, just… remembering.”

 

Cas smiled and leaned back in. “I never forgot,” he whispered, and then captured Dean’s mouth in a searingly warm kiss.

 

It was all so, so wrong - mainly because it felt so damn perfect. Dean didn’t think he’d ever been kissed the way Cas was kissing him now; it was so breathtakingly wonderful that Dean’s heart broke a little at the thought that it wasn’t really meant for him. This Cas, this angel, belonged to a different Dean, one that was used to being kissed like he was someone’s whole world. Cas kissed Dean like he was starved for him; his hand shaking slightly where it was cupped around Dean’s cheek, his tongue tentative but desperate at the same time. Dean felt as though he was drowning in it, and it was only the thought that this - this kiss, this Cas - wasn’t his that stopped Dean from giving himself completely over to it.

 

Sam’s last words came back to him: “When you woke up with Cas, when he kissed you, did you like it?”

 

Yes, Dean liked it. He’d thought about it before, if he was completely honest with himself. When they were out on a job and Dean could see Cas’s lips moving slightly with unspoken words and questions; when they found themselves alone together in the car, or at a motel; that time he’d given Cas a beer, and his lips had gotten shiny with alcohol, blue eyes light and open as he gazed across the room. Dean’d thought about crowding Cas up against the wall of a motel and slotting their hips together; thought about pulling Cas close so that he’d know how his mouth felt; thought about sliding his tongue between those lips - damp and chapped at the same time - and seeing how they taste…

 

Ten years ago.

 

If what Cas said was true, then maybe Dean was in the future. His own future, one that included anniversaries and houses and little girls and making out on the couch in front of a movie. If that was the case, then it wasn’t really wrong, was it?

 

Cas pulled back, trailing his fingers over Dean’s cheek. “Still lost in the memory?”

 

Dean looked at him, and thought fast. If this was his own future, then he could have this, couldn’t he? It wouldn’t be like stealing something from someone else, because it was his. It wouldn’t be wrong, would it?

 

"Dean? Are you alright?”

 

Dean’s body made the decision for him, and he tackled Cas.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Later, they laid tangled together in a pile of limbs and sweat, on the floor next to the sofa. Dean’s head was propped on Cas’s arm, and he could feel lips against the top of his head.

 

“That,” Dean huffed out, eyes shutting. “Was good.” He felt completely saturated in Cas, so much so that he could barely bring himself to move. He’d never admit it out loud - he could barely admit it in his head - but the last hour or so with Cas, learning him, kissing him, knowing him, equaled up to be the best he’d felt in months. Years, maybe. He felt, God help him, wanted.

 

Dean let himself sink against Cas, losing himself in the feel of their bodies slumped together. Cas puffed out a slow breath, pressing kisses along Dean’s scalp.

 

“You didn’t say it,” Cas said quietly, almost pained.

 

Dean lifted his head slightly, squinting at the stubbly tanness of Cas’s face. “Didn’t say what?”

 

“That you love me,” Cas whispered back, sliding his fingers lightly down Dean’s back, making him shiver and press even closer. “You always say it, every time.”

 

“Sorry, angel,” Dean forced out, not sure what to say. He’d wanted to say it, had almost choked on the words from the effort of holding them back, but it was too soon, and he was in a place where he didn’t really belong. “I guess I, uh. Lost the ability to form words, at some point.”

 

To Dean’s relief, Cas just smiled back. “Yeah, that was pretty intense. We should definitely do this more often.”

 

Dean leaned in to kiss him again - he just couldn’t stop - but was interrupted by the arrival of a voice message. It rang through the house, and Dean groaned.

 

“Party’s in an hour, guys. Don’t be late - we don’t wanna make Donna mad,” Sam’s voice said, and the answering machine clicked.

 

Dean looked at Cas, taking the chance to kiss his jaw. “How about that anniversary shower I ran out on?”

 

“I think I could be persuaded.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After showering - anniversary orgasms included - and dressing, Dean and Cas drove to a cute little farm house with a big yard. The party was in full swing, but fortunately for Dean, Sam was standing at the door to greet them. As the three of them wandered around to the back garden, Dean managed to pull Sam aside and whisper in his ear.

 

“I know you said you can’t tell me anything, man, but can I at least know what this party’s for?”

 

Sam patted his arm, smiling. “It’s a joint anniversary party for you and Cas, and Donna and her husband. We do it every year.”

 

“We do?”

 

Sam smiled. “You will.”

 

So, Dean’d been right (after a few guesses, but that didn’t matter). This was the future. Or, at least, it was a future. As about a dozen people - some he knew, some he didn’t - gathered in the background of Donna’s home, Dean wondered if it was a future he would be lucky enough to actually get. (He didn’t really know who Donna was, except that she was nice, gave good hugs, and said “darn tootin” a lot. She seemed pretty cool.)

 

The party was a ton of fun; everyone seemed to accept his and Cas’s presence among them without a blink. Katie had come running out of the house moments after they’d arrived, Jody running out after her, looking harassed. She’d taken one look at Dean and Cas and heaved a massive sigh of relief.  “Good, you’re here,” she’d said. “I need a drink big enough to drop an elephant, excuse me.” And she’d gone off in a desperate search for alcohol.

 

Dean didn’t know most of the people there, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get a flash of warmth when they hugged or greeted him. He felt so welcome in their gaggle of laughter and love that he couldn’t _not_ wish they belonged to him. There were numerous kids running around, most covered in Crayola marker lines. Katie stood out from the crowd with her long waves of messy blonde locks. Dean had trouble remembering all the names that Sam – thankfully – whispered into his ear whenever he was climbed on or smashed into, but there was so much going on that he didn’t think it was noticed. It was fun, and Dean realized with a wry grin that fun was something that had been lacking in his normal life. Maybe Sammy was right when he nagged Dean about spending too much time hunting.

 

Evening had fallen around him, and Dean found himself sitting on a bench a little away from everyone else, watching with a confused smile as Cas spun a giggling Donna – who was really super awesome – around an impromptu dance floor. Something pulled at his leg, and he looked down to see Katie climbing onto his lap.

 

“Hey, ba-” Dean cut himself off. It felt like instinct to call her ‘baby,’ but he didn’t know if that was what future Dean would do. He’d tried to avoid the little girl during the party, because she was so young, and he didn’t want to inadvertently do anything to upset her. He glanced around for Sam, but he was occupied by a scrawny dude on the other side of the yard (Sam’d called him Garm, or Girth, or something). He turned back to Katie, hesitant. “Are you having fun?”

 

The little girl parked herself on his lap, studying him with serious brown eyes. “You not Pop,” she said slowly, quietly.

 

Dean didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to say anything that would upset her. But he didn’t want to lie to her, either. He settled on, “No. Sorry, kiddo.”

 

“Who you?” she asked.

 

“Uh, heh. You can just call me Dean.”

 

“I’m Katie,” she said, patting herself on her chest.

 

Dean smiled. “Yeah, I know. It’s a real pretty name.”

 

Katie nodded, then slowly frowned. She took Dean’s hand with chubby child fingers, sniffing. “Where Pop go?”

 

"I- huh. I don’t know, baby,” he said, letting the endearment fall out as he tried to comfort her. “But he’ll be back soon.”

 

"Pop come back?”

 

"Yeah, kiddo. Pop’ll come back.”

 

Katie smiled, and patted Dean’s hand. “You nice.”

 

"Why thank you. I think you’re pretty nice, too.” Dean grinned, giving into the urge to card his fingers through her wild hair. Katie curled up on Dean’s lap and hummed to herself as he played with her hair, just like Cas had done earlier, and by the time Cas found them, she was fast asleep and drooling on Dean’s shirt.

 

"It’s nice to know that she can actually get tired out, occasionally,” Cas said, helping Dean stand up with his arms full of sleeping little girl. “Maybe we can ask Donna to host a party every night, just so we can get her to sleep.”

 

“I think Donna’d be happy to do that, really,” Dean said with a chuckled. “We should probably get her home now, though. She’s heavier than she looks.”

 

Together they said quiet goodbyes to everyone (Cas retrieving Bob – who turned out to be a stuffed moose in a tutu), and drove home. Cas went to lock the door for the night while Dean walked up the stairs looking for Katie’s bedroom. He found it next to the room he’d woken up in, the corners filled with wobbling stacks of toys and books, clothes strewn across the floor. He gently laid her down on wing-print sheets, easing her shoes off carefully. She stirred quietly as Dean pulled the covers of her, and he stroked her hair to sooth her back down to sleep.

 

Dean stared down at her, light waves of hair spread across the pillow, small snuffles filling her sleep, and he wanted. “You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled.

 

Dean got up and went over to the door, but he had to turn around for one last. “Oh, damn, I want her,” he whispered, his chest clenching.

 

“Well, good. Maybe we’ll keep her,” Cas said from behind. He smiled when Dean turned around. “You’ll be happy to know that I’ve repaired the hole in the wards you created when you ran out the front door without locking it. You’re welcome, by the way.”

 

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

 

“Something I’m used to, believe me.”

 

Together, they entered their bedroom and got undressed, sliding in under the covers. Cas wasted no time in positioning Dean exactly how he wanted, using his chest as a pillow and hitching his knee over Dean’s thighs. “We’ll have to think of something nice to get Jody as a thank-you gift,” Cas said, pulling at Dean’s wrist until he began playing with his hair. “I think our little monster really ran her ragged. Not that that’s unusual, she’s far too much like you.”

 

“Hey,” Dean pulled Cas’s hair, affronted.

 

“It’s probably because you’re the one who saved her; she learned to be reckless before we even knew her.” Cas drew circles on the skin of Dean’s chest as he spoke, his shoulders tensing slightly. “Maybe, next time, we should adopt the right way, instead of running off with the child of a vampire victim.”

 

Dean’s heart beat wildly in his chest. “Next time?”

 

Cas shrugged, but Dean could tell that he was nervous. “We don’t have to. But it might be nice for Katie to have a sibling.”

 

The image unfolded before Dean’s eyes, and they burned with unshed tears. In this future, he had everything he’d ever remotely dreamed of – a home, a partner, a family – and he wanted it all so goddamn much that it hurt.

 

“I think that would be nice,” he said eventually, when he thought he could keep his voice even.

 

Cas lifted his head to look at him, his blue eyes hopeful. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” Dean kissed him, putting all the words he couldn’t say into the kiss; how much he wanted this, how sorry he was that this wasn’t real, how he would give anything to be able to stay and make this his. When they parted, Cas snuggled back down onto Dean’s chest, and Dean let the sound of Cas’s breathing send him off to sleep, wishing with all his heart that he could do it every night.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The first thing Dean became aware of was the smell; disinfectant and lemons. Then, he heard the tell-tale subtle beeping and knew exactly where he was. He’d been hurt on the job enough times to recognize a hospital when he was in one.

 

He didn’t open his eyes straight away - he wanted to stay in the dream he’d been having for as long as he could. Eventually, though, he knew he’d have to face reality. He slowly blinked his eyes open, taking in the familiar view of a hospital room ceiling. He swallowed his disappointment and lifted his right hand to scrub at his face - his left was encased in something warm, and he wondered if he’d done enough damage to warrant a cast, or sling. He didn’t look; he knew he’d be okay eventually, and he didn’t need to see whatever had been done to him.

 

“Dean! Oh my God, you’re awake.”

 

Dean turned to find Sam sitting on his right, grinning. He shifted with a groan, blinking. Sam’s hair was shorter again, pushed back behind his ears, and he looked tired. Books and scrolls were covering his lap, tucked down the sides of his chair, and spread across the bottom of the bed.

 

“What’re you doing here? You’re supposed to be with that bitc- Ruby.”

 

Sam snorted. “Please, you’ve been unconscious for a week, did you really think I wouldn’t come back to be with you?”

 

“A week? Damn.”

 

Sam nodded. “Bobby and I got a message from Cas about four days ago. We’ve been researching ever since, but we couldn’t find a way to wake you up.” Sam frowned. “I actually haven’t been really helpful, to be honest.”

 

“What happened?” Dean asked.

 

“You triggered a spell, a really old one. Cas couldn’t wake you up, so he brought you here.”

 

Dean started at the name, and tried to sit up. “Cas? Is he okay?”

 

Sam gave him a speculative look, and nodded her head at the other side of the bed. Dean looked over, and found Cas sitting next to him. He was fast asleep, his head resting on the bed next to Dean’s his, his right hand curled tightly around Dean’s left.

 

“I think he used up too much of his Grace trying to wake you up. All I did was read completely useless books.” Sam snapped the one on his lap shut, startling Dean. “When he hasn’t been here, he’s been in libraries all over the world, trying to work out where you went, and how we could bring you back.”

 

“Where I went?” Dean was confused; he’d been in the hospital, hadn’t he?

 

Sam nodded. “It was the spell, Dean. It’s very old, so old that there aren’t many mentions of it anywhere. It’s called _brevem conspectum_ , and as far as we could work out, it means a brief glimpse. Cas managed to work out that it transfers your conscience somewhere, but that’s as far as we got, I’m afraid.” Sam reached out and grabbed Dean’s wrist, and when Dean looked up, he could see the fear in Sam’s eyes. “I’m so damn glad you came back. I really thought we lost you for good, this time.”

 

Dean opened his mouth to respond - probably to tell Sam to cut the girly crap - but was interrupted by a slight squeeze of his hand. He turned, and watched as Cas slowly blinked his eyes open. Cas stared up at Dean, his blue eyes wide and open in a way Dean had only seen in his dream.

 

Or was it a dream?

 

“You’re awake,” Cas said, his voice like gravel. He coughed, and Dean could see the shutters coming down, hiding his barely-there emotions behind a cool mask. A sharp pang sliced through Dean’s chest. Cas sat up and removed his hand, and Dean wanted to reach out and drag him in again. “I should let the two of you talk,” Cas said, standing up swiftly and moving towards the door.

 

“Don’t leave,” Dean said gruffly. Cas turned back and looked at him. “Please?”

 

Cas stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll just… get you a warm drink.” He left the room, and Dean - stupidly, stupidly - missed him immediately.

 

Sam looked at him consideringly for a moment, and then nodded to himself. He picked up a piece of paper and a pen. “Now that you’re awake, maybe you can give us some insight as to where you were sent. It’s very important, others might stumble over-”

 

“It was the future,” Dean interrupted her, closing his eyes and trying to remember the exact feel of Cas’s skin against his, the sound of Katie’s giggle, watching his not-yet family gathered together in celebration. “Or, at least, it was _a_ future.”

 

“The future? How can you be sure?” Sam’s voice was hushed, but Dean could tell he was skeptical; Sam had never put much stock in time travel. (He was especially critical of the _Back to the Future_ movies, which caused Dean pain. They were true works of art.)

 

“Because you told me,” Dean smiled. “Or, you will tell me, in a few years.” He grinned, and squeezed Sam’s wrist. “I don’t need to tell you any more, because I know you, and I know you’ll research this to fucking death-” she scoffed, and Dean lifted an eyebrow. “And I know you’ll steer me right when the time comes.”

 

Sam’s face crumpled slightly, and he pushed himself out of his chair and hugged Dean. “I am so glad you’re back,” he muttered, laughing.

 

“Me too,” Dean grunted, patting his brother’s back awkwardly before pushing him away. When he looked up, Cas was standing in the doorway, a cup of coffee in his hands. “Now, go tell Bobby that I’m fine, and get some sleep. You look like shit.”

 

Sam laughed. “You’re so full of charm, but you’re right. I’ll bring Bobby to see you later.” Sam gathered up his books and shoved them into a worn duffle, smiling slightly at Cas as he passed.

 

Cas sat back down and held out the coffee, frowning. “You’re very lucky to have a brother like Sam.”

 

“According to him, I’m lucky to have you, too,” Dean replied. He took a pull of his coffee. “Ugh, perfect.”

 

Cas’s lips pulled upwards in a small smile, but he shook his head. “I was the one who let you step through the doorway.”

 

“And then you divided your time between being here, and looking for a way to cure me,” Dean said firmly. “So. Like I said, I’m lucky to have you, angel.”

 

Cas frowned severely, looking over at Dean. “That’s a human term of endearment. Since when have you used those to address me?”

 

Dean realized his mistake, but then abruptly decided that it wasn’t a mistake at all. “Since I decided that I- God. That I friggin’ like you, and want to get to know you better.”

 

“You want us to be friends?” Cas asked, hopefulness in his tone.

 

“No,” Dean said, and he watched as Cas’s expression closed up, eyes dipping away. He remembered what the future Cas had told him, the anniversary they had spent together, and Dean realized that if he wanted a chance for that future to come true, there was something he needed to do. Dean reached out and wrapped his fingers around Cas’s crooked tie, pulling him closer. “I want more than friends,” he said, and kissed him. (He knew it was sappy as shit, and sorta girly, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It felt too damn good to care.)

 

It was just like their kiss on the sofa in the future; hot and sweet and perfect, Cas’s fingers trembling as he lifted his hand to tentatively cup Dean’s cheek, his tongue hesitant against Dean’s own, until Dean deepened the kiss and his instincts kicked in. Something clicked inside Dean’s chest, and he whimpered into Cas’s mouth, wanting more, wanting it all. He was hopeful that he’d get it.

 

A brief glimpse wasn’t enough for Dean, not anymore. He wanted everything, and now that he knew what everything looked like, he was going to move Heaven and Hell to make sure that he got it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so. on a camping trip, katie's parents were killed by vampires that the winchesters failed to kill on time. they took her with them, intending to drop her off at the nearest police station, but she was just so lovable and small and they really liked her so they illegally ran off with her and became her dads and uncle sam. sorry. i just like kids. 
> 
> as always, i appreciate comments and kudos!
> 
>  
> 
> (also, i think sam needs a doggo.)


End file.
